


Pure Country

by SailorLestrade



Category: Supernatural RPF
Genre: Angst, Based off of a movie, F/M, Fluff, Music, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Rockstar Jensen, Texas, lyrics
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-09-13
Updated: 2017-09-13
Packaged: 2018-12-27 10:49:45
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,112
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12079557
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SailorLestrade/pseuds/SailorLestrade
Summary: Dean Winchester is the biggest name in country music. His life should be easy. Except for the fact that his name is really Jensen Ackles and he can’t stand the smoke and lights anymore. So after a concert, Jensen decides to take a walk. And he keeps on going.





	Pure Country

**Author's Note:**

> So this is the second story that I’m posting a 1st chapter for! Hopefully one you’ll like. And the song is “It Ain’t My Fault” by the Brothers Osbourne.

“Dean! Dean! Dean!” 

The crowd was loud. He could hear them from inside his tour bus as he finished putting on the last of his eyeliner. He was the newest and hottest thing in country music, even though he couldn’t see why. This wasn’t country to him, but it brought in the money so he wasn’t going to judge too badly. It was like punk rock meets country. And he was the big star. With a sigh, he got the rest of his wardrobe together before snagging his guitar and heading on stage with the rest of the band.

The crowd was huge. Every crowd was though. They were all screaming and cheering. Chanting his name over and over again.

Except it wasn’t his real name they were chanting, but his stage name. Because somehow Dean Winchester sounded cooler than Jensen Ackles. And honestly, he didn’t blame them. Not for the most part. Even though, part of him longed to hear them chant Jensen over Dean. He wasn’t Dean. That was just the character he played on stage. But Dean paid the bills and kept butts in the seats.

“Let’s do this!” Jensen called into the microphone, getting cheers from the crowd. His bandmates started up the music. Jensen nodded along, looking around at his bandmates. He wouldn’t be there if not for them. He owed them all so much.

“Blame the whiskey on the beer. Blame the beer on the whiskey. Blame the mornin' on the night for whose lyin' here with me. Blame the bar for the band. Blame the band for the song. Blame the song for the party that went all night long.” Jensen flashed a smile at the crowd. “But it ain't my fault. No it ain't my fault. Mighta had a little fun. Lotta wrong I'd done. But it ain’t my fault.” 

The crowd cheered loudly at the song. Jensen really liked this song too. A lot of people did. And the radios played it all the time.

“Blame the heart for the hurtin'. Blame the hurtin' on the heart. Blame the dark on the devil. Blame the devil on the dark. Blame the ex for the drinkin'. Blame the drinkin' for the ex. Blame the two for one tequila's for whatever happens next. But it ain't my fault. No it ain't my fault. Mighta had a little fun. Lotta wrong I'd done. But it ain't my fault.” The crowd seemed to know what was happening next. They started clapping their hands.

“I got my hands up. I need an alibi. Find me a witness who can testify. You made a mistake. You got the wrong guy. I'm only guilty of a damn good time. No it ain't my fault.” Jensen launched into his guitar solo, smiling over at his bassist while he did.

“Blame my reason on my name. Blame my name on my reason. Blame my lack of knowing better on public education. Blame smoke on the fire. Blame fire on the smoke. Blame the fight on the bouncer that couldn't take a joke. But it ain't my fault.” Jensen scanned the crowd, smiling as he went. “I got my hands up. I need an alibi. Find me a witness who can testify. You made a mistake. You got the wrong guy. I'm only guilty of a damn good time. No it ain't my fault. No it ain't my fault. No it ain't my fault.”

The song finished up and the crowd cheered and screamed. Jensen barely had time to catch his breath before the band was starting up the next song. The concert went on that way, with Jensen just taking a few moments here and there to talk to the crowd. He could see his manager out there, working her magic like she always did. But soon she disappeared from his vision and he just shrugged. She was a grown woman.

****

While Jensen’s song “Tennessee Whiskey” played in the background, his manager made her way backstage. The redhead, a woman named Danneel Harris, smiled as she watched one of the stagehands messing around. Pretending to play guitar with a broom. Steve Carlson wanted to be up there on the stage.

“Look at that,” Steve began as Danneel walked up to him. “He could stand there and look cross eyed with hair dye running down his face, and all those people would still go bat shit crazy to see him.” He looked down at the red head. “Did you play him my song?”

“I told you I would Steve.” Danneel assured him, running a hand down his arm.

“But when?” He asked, leaning down so his lips weren’t far from hers. She smirked up at him.

“When the time is right.” She laughed. She turned to walk away from him, making Steve raise an eyebrow in confusion. “I’ll be out in Dean’s bus. If anyone needs me.” She waved at Steve, indicating for her to follow him.

She never called Jensen by his real name while out where fans could hear. It was always Dean. Dean Winchester.

****

“Thank god it’s over.” Jensen said, rubbing at his eyes. The lights always hurt. Mainly because the smoke would make them sting.

“Well, you knocked them dead.” Cliff laughed, patting Jensen on the shoulder. They made their way through screaming fans wanting pictures and autographs. He did stop for a couple of kids, but that was it. He made his way to his tour bus, where Danneel was waiting with beer.

“That was a great show tonight.” Danneel said, watching as Jensen wiped the makeup off his face and washed the products out of his hair. “It’s going to help so much with the new album.”

“About that.” Jensen said, switching to a better shirt than what he had been wearing. “Chris, Jay, and I set down and were working on a couple goodies for the album. I want to make time to get into the studio to lay down the tracks.” He noticed the look on Danneel’s face.

“That reminds me.” She held up a tape and smiled at Jensen. “I got this demo and I think it could be your next big single.”

“And just where did this demo come from?” Jensen asked. Danneel shrugged.

“Oh, Steve Carlson.” She said. Jensen stared at her.

“Steve Carlson. With the road crew?” He said.

“Well, you make it sound like it’s a bad thing.” She said. “Come on Jensen, just listen to it.”

“Fine. I’ll listen to your boyfriend’s song. But there’s no way in hell I’m doing it.” Jensen said as he flopped down in a chair, ready to move on to the next city.


End file.
